


Have yourself a very Barton-Barnes Christmas

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alpine the Cat, Bucky saves the day, Christmas, Christmas List, Clint hates magic, Clint is a cookie thief, Clint is getting nothing for christmas, Food Fight, M/M, Parents, Rescue Cat, Sick Clint, Upset Clint, baking challenge, father Clint, father bucky, lost lucky, nurturing Bucky, pizza dog - Freeform, puntastic clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: A collection of random short fics with a lot of Christmas cheer and drama.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 31
Kudos: 80





	1. The Christmas Baking disaster

“So, I’ve got an idea” is a phrase that Bucky hated hearing when it came out of the mouth of either of the blond males in his life. This time, it was from Steve who looked a little too eager. Bucky looked past him to Natasha, who seemed to stop chewing her food and look at Bucky, silently communicating her thoughts with him. _Yeah, she knows this is going to be the worst idea ever as well._

“Well, this should be terrifying,” Natasha said slowly. “And what is your idea?”

“You know, for being my girlfriend, you are terrible at being supportive,” Steve pointed out.

Natasha leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Barton warned you of that. It’s cute that you didn’t believe him.” The funny thing about that was, those two supported each other unconditionally so how Clint would know that was a mystery.

Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about Steve dating the red head first, but it seemed to make Steve happy and honestly? It seemed to make Natasha happy. They had been dating for the better half of a year now, and he was forever grateful that _someone _was able to keep Steve from doing something stupid every second of the day. Bucky was even happier that they weren’t the flaunting types.__

__“You know how Pepper is always going on about us reaching out to the public? Doing videos and stuff that show everyone how… normal we can be?” Steve asked. “We should all flaunt our lack of cooking skills and do a cooking challenge or something. Like.. whats that show you and Barton watch, Bucky? That… holiday cooking something? Bake off?”_ _

__“... none of us can cook and that sounds absolutely terrible,” Natasha admitted._ _

__“Bucky can cook, Barton knows how to cook,” Steve argued. “Come on, what’s more real than showcasing the fact that all of us can fight off the bad guys but can’t cook to save our lives? And I might have already brought it up to Tony and Pepper and they think it would be hilarious.”_ _

__“I’m really not in the mood,” Bucky muttered._ _

__He hadn’t been in the mood for much lately. A week ago, he got into a fight with Clint that led to Clint storming out of his own apartment. It was over moving, leaving Bed-Stuy and either just staying at the Tower or buying something a little further out, a place that had a working elevator so Clint didn’t have to pull himself up several flights of stairs when injured. And Clint told him exactly where he could shove that idea, and that Bucky knew where the door was. The very next day, Clint was shipped out on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission that he didn’t bother telling Bucky about, he had to learn through Natasha who was grounded due to a broken ankle. To say it hurt was an understatement._ _

__“Oh, stop moping, it was a fight,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “And before you try to call him again, try to remember he is on an assignment. Clint takes his job seriously. And if he is solo, you may put him in a bad spot.”_ _

__Bucky looked down- she was absolutely right. The last thing Bucky wanted to do was stress Clint out to the point he made a mistake. He was pretty sure he’s never forgive himself if he was the cause for injuries. Clint needed to be in the zone, in the correct headspace. Bucky was going to have to swallow back all the texts and calls he wanted to send and keep it to himself._ _

__“You are right,” Bucky conceded. “I still think having an Avengers baking challenge is going to be an absolutely terrible idea, just throwing it out there. When do you have it scheduled for?”_ _

__Steve’s smile only widened. “Five days from now.”_ _

__Natasha muttered something in Russian, something that normally would have had Bucky in stitched. “Steve, you are going to be the death of me,” Natasha muttered._ _

__

__\-----_ _

__

__“Where is Barton?” Tony asked. It was the day of the cooking competition and Clint was running late, well past the expected return date of his mission. Bucky tried to act cool about it, but he was starting to crack around the edges._ _

__“I don’t think he is home from his mission yet,” Steve commented as the team watched camera crews setting up. “Were firemen really necessary?” he asked Tony._ _

__“When you learn to cook without starting a fire, then we won’t need them,” Tony mocked. “Or Natasha for that matter.”_ _

__“How is it that you got out of cooking?” Steve asked Natasha. She smirked and held her leg out, showing off her cast. “Alright… there are four set ups. Who is all doing this bake off?”_ _

__“Well, it was going to be me, you, Bucky, and Clint. But Clint isn’t here so… someone might have to take his place. Bruce?”_ _

__“I’m out, I am just here for the judging,” Bruce replied. “Have Peter do it.”_ _

__“I can do it, Mr. Stark,” Peter said enthusiastically._ _

__“Touch my station and die, Spiderling,” Clint said cheerfully as he walked in._ _

__Bucky turned and did a quick head to toe assessment on Clint. Nothing appeared to be broken, the right side of his face largely covered in a heavy bandage with bruises peeking out around the edges, and one arm wrapped up lightly, probably to just dull some ache. All things considered, Clint looked good as he balanced two containers of coffee in one hand. He was still in his tactical gear, though he was stripping out of his vest, holsters and harnesses as he walked, letting them drop dangerously to the floor; he did have a Santa hat firmly situated on his head, which Bucky figured Clint did as an apology to Pepper for a lack of a Christmas sweater like requested._ _

__“You can’t threaten minors, Clint,” Steve sighed._ _

__“I believe I just did,” Clint replied, leaning down to kiss Natasha’s cheek. “No offense, Spider-kid.”_ _

__“No, no, none taken,” Peter answered quickly. “By the way, after all this I was wondering if I could get your help with something. It’s this internet challenge and I think you’d be great at it. It has to do with yoga and all those stretchy bendy poses.” Without Clint saying it, Bucky knew Clint would agree. He had a soft spot for Peter and was a sucker for internet challenges, especially if he got to do it with someone else._ _

__Clint shrugged, his head tilting to one side and brushing his shoulder as he did so. “Yeah, sure. After this and when my wrist feels less like it’s on fire,” he agreed._ _

__Clint shuffled his way to Bucky and nearly collapsed onto him, doing his best to sprawl despite being on two feet. Wrapping his arms around him, Bucky took a deep breath. _He is okay- he doesn’t smell like he took twelve showers._ Clint had a ritual after missions, mission Grime-be-gone he affectionately called it; Clint would take a shower to refresh himself before he even allowed anyone to talk to him, even Fury. The stronger Clint smelled like his body wash, the worse the mission was._ _

__“You know, Merida, most people shotgun beer or energy drinks, not coffee,” Tony taunted._ _

__“Mhhh- I haven’t slept in twenty-nine hours, Tony. I would watch out when I start flipping knives around like I’m a juggler,” Clint casually threatened, no heat behind it. He took a deep breath as he pressed his head against Bucky’s shoulder. “Missed you,” he whispered._ _

__“Missed you too,” Bucky agreed. “You can back out- get some sleep.”_ _

__“And miss a charity event? Lose out on a fun competition? No way,” Clint answered._ _

__Bucky huffed out a little laugh. “Rain check for the next few days?”_ _

__Clint nodded against Bucky’s shoulder. “This is why we are together. You get it.” He pressed a kiss against Bucky’s neck, something that always seemed to set Bucky on the right kind of edge._ _

__“Okay, we are on in five,” Pepper announced and Bucky wanted to scoop Clint up off his feet and make a mad dash to one of their floors; Bucky’s was the closer one._ _

__Clint straighten out and grinned at Bucky. “You smell that, Barnes?” he asked, a cool, confident smile gracing his face. “That’s the smell of me kicking your ass at this challenge while I am sleep deprived. Breathe it in.” He brushed his hip against Bucky tauntingly as he walked over to his small section. “Ooh! It’s all in purple!” he cheered, setting his cups down and grabbing his apron. “You guys are going down!”_ _

__For what it was worth, Clint’s hidden talent really was cooking much to everyone’s surprise. Clint blamed it on all the years of having to be self-reliant that he learned, but that didn’t mean he should know how to decorate desserts as if he had done it a hundred times in his sleep. _Just good with my fingers_ Clint said with a goddamn wink that drove Bucky crazy._ _

__The first task was making and decorating christmas cookies. Bucky took the cake on that event- he was better at making cookies than Clint. Clint crossed his arms, a ridiculous smile on his face as he listened to the judges talking about all four contestants, not bothered by anything. Steve and Tony however? Bucky wasn’t sure which of the two was more mortified that they even agreed to this whole idea of Steve’s. They took a small break before starting task two- cake decorating._ _

__“Barnes!” Clint called over while he was mixing his batter. “I’m thinking about doing a man bun too. We can start a club.”_ _

__Bucky felt his lips twitch downward. He liked Clint’s hair the way it was, had said it on many occasions. “Clint,” Bucky warned._ _

__“What? On Twitter we are hashtag sniperbros. Maybe we can change it to hashtag man buns. Buns of steel. Uh-” Clint said._ _

__“Buns of steel,” Tony snorted indecently._ _

__“Hey, bite me,” Clint said. “Don’t be jealous that you possibly have the absolute worst booty on the team. All flat over there.” Natasha slammed her hands down on the judge's table and laughed, ducking her head. Clint picked up his mug and smirked, taking a sip of coffee. “Now Captain and Soldier boy…” he clicked his tongue and winked._ _

__“Barton,” Steve scolded._ _

__“Oh God- not this again,” Bruce groaned before Clint could launch himself into singing “Bootylicious”, dancing around his kitchen._ _

__As far as tactics went, it worked. Clint could multitask with his song and dance routine as he cooked while half the team was either in fits of laughter or stunned disbelief that he was willing to put on this level of a show for the cameras. Bucky rolled his eyes and continued working, trying to tune him out. Bucky managed to glance up and see Pepper smiling a little too broadly, turn her head and laugh with the associate standing next to her._ _

__As his cake cooled so he could decorate it Clint seemed to be losing steam a little, polishing off both of his coffees as he walked around his station, checking the frosting colors. He could barely keep his eyes open and Bucky was resisting the urge to pick him up and carry him off to bed. Clint looked up and caught Bucky’s eyes, giving him a weak smile before he looked back down at the timer with a huff._ _

__“Going to forfeit, Barton?” Bucky asked, trying to keep him awake and sharp._ _

__“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Clint asked, smirking. “Y’know Barnes… I know exactly what you can do with that frosting.” Bucky looked over and Clint blew him a kiss. Bucky was going to have to tell him to stop doing that. “So… can someone please bring me some coffee?” Clint asked. “I’m not above begging. Pepper? Peps? My second favorite redhead? No? Okay.”_ _

__“Score one for Tony,” Tony said._ _

__Clint snorted. “Yeah, sure thing Ironass. Your cake is more crumbly than that tin can you call a suit.” Steve nearly choked on the glass of water he had, spraying a mist over his setup. “Aaaaand that’s gross,” Clint remarked. “Guess you’ll have to disinfect and start from scratch, Captain my Captain.”_ _

__Steve groaned and glared over to Clint. “You really are a competitive a-”_ _

__“Language,” everyone called out before Steve could finish the word._ _

__“Two down, Buck, it’s just me and you now,” Clint commented. “Let’s see- how am I best equipped to take you down?” he asked out loud, walking away from his station._ _

__“I will shank you,” Bucky warned, keeping his tone sweet and uplifting._ _

__“Guys, please, no threatening violence,” Pepper requested._ _

__“I didn’t say with _what_ ,” Bucky stressed._ _

__“He has a fair point,” Clint said. “There are plenty of-”_ _

__“ _Clint_.”_ _

__Clint held his hands up in defeat to Pepper before he sat on the counter, stirring his frosting once again. Bucky watched the wheels turning in his head and tried his hardest not to pay him any attention. Clint at least had limits and recognized Bucky had boundaries that he needed to not be crossed. There was so much Clint could say, could do, that would throw Bucky off his game but he wasn’t crossing that line._ _

__“Fifteen minutes,” Bruce called out._ _

__Clint hopped down from the counter and washed his hands before he started decorating his cake. It was the final push and he seemed to gain his focus back. Bucky wished he had the time to be mesmerized by Clint working around the cake, leaning in, focused. But if Bucky didn’t try then Clint was going to accuse him of throwing the competition; it helped that Bucky wanted to win it just as badly as Clint at this point._ _

__Bucky jumped when something red whizzed by his head, inches from his face and landed right on top of Clint’s cake. Clint stared down at it before he narrowed his eyes and looked past Bucky. Tony grinned, his hands making a ball again, a mixture of cake and icing. To Bucky’s dismay, Steve was doing the same._ _

__“... you son of a-” Clint said. He picked up a pan and shielded his cake from another attempt. “ _Pepper_.”_ _

__“Oh no- asteroids,” Steve said as innocently as he could, tossing his ball at Bucky’s cake. Bucky caught it and smashed it on the table._ _

__“Clint…” Bucky said slowly._ _

__“Oh, I fully plan on making them pay,” Clint said, mashing his cake._ _

__“Hawkeye-”_ _

__Clint jumped on top of the table and launched his ball, striking Tony right in his shoulder before he scooped up more, hitting Steve upside the head. Bucky was moving to form his own balls as Clint picked up his excess mix and jumped from his counter to Bucky’s, then Steve’s, and settled on Tony’s, throwing the batter at Tony as he tried to run away._ _

__The event turned into a chaotic mess everywhere. Bucky could only faintly hear Pepper trying to reign them in but they were all in too deep now. Sugar, flour and food coloring was everything. Bucky was certain it was going to take days to get all the food coloring out of his hair, his skin, but it was worth it. The mischievous glint in Clint’s eyes as he tried to strategically play out this food fight made his heart swell._ _

__Steve ducked at the last minute when Clint threw a wad of mostly frosting at him and stared in horror was it smashed into Natasha’s face. Bucky hadn’t even been aware she had been sent to get them to stop the food fight. Natasha stood stunned before she reached up and wiped off her eyes. Clint’s face lost all color and he scrambled for higher ground, climbing onto Bucky’s back, wrapping his legs around him._ _

__“Oh yeah, great choice,” Bucky muttered._ _

__“Clinton Francis Barton,” Natasha hissed._ _

__“Natasha- Nat- the love of my life,” Clint responded nervously. She stalked forward and Clint held out a long leg, thinking it would keep her at bay. “This is Steve’s fault! He ducked! Or… or Tony’s! He started the whole thing,” Clint argued weakly. “Kill one of them first, give me a head start.”_ _

__“Do these things always go like this?” the producer asked._ _

__“Yes, yes they do,” Pepper said with a sigh._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__Bucky looked up when Clint finally got out of the shower. He was in a pair of Bucky’s shorts and ditched the Tshirt, which Bucky expected for this time of night. “Mhhh- help?” Clint requested, holding out a bandage for his head. Bucky nodded and sat up on the couch more so Clint could sit between his legs. His skin was still splattered with food coloring, dull but there. Bucky tilted Clint’s head back, inspecting the stitches to make sure they were still in good condition before he wound the bandages carefully._ _

__“Clint?”_ _

__“Hm?” His eyes were closed and Bucky knew he would fall asleep at any moment._ _

__Bucky sighed and kissed the top of his head, breathing in the smell of his clean hair. “Keep the Bed-Stuy place, we’ll figure out a way to fix that elevator.” Clint’s eyes fluttered open and his eyebrows knitted together. “That place is so… quintessentially you, and I love you. I’ll learn to love that place too.”_ _

__Clint smiled sleepily as pulled himself up into Bucky’s lap, making himself smaller somehow. He rested his head against Bucky’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his neck; taking a deep breath and letting it go, he closed his eyes. He murmured something Bucky didn’t quite catch as he drifted off. Bucky didn’t move until he knew Clint was sound asleep. He moved his hands to support Clint’s weight better as he stood up and carried him off to bed. As soon as Bucky got the hearing aids out and was laying down, Clint rolled in, an arm and leg draping themselves over him as he snuggled in close._ _

__If the worst thing Bucky had to deal with was the Bed-Stuy apartment in order to fall asleep and wake up to this every morning for the rest of his life like this, he could learn to love it._ _


	2. I want a Pizza Dog for Christmas

Clint sat outside on the stoop of his Bed-Stuy apartment, bundled up and looking miserable. It was a nightly ritual now- for the past two weeks Clint sat outside until his ass threatened to fall off and kept his eyes peeled. At first he would explore, check all the alleys, talk to every person who passed. He handed out and hung up so many flyers that he was certain there wasn’t an Amazon rain forest anymore.

Clint had been out on a deep cover mission for a month. Peter promised he would take the best care of Lucky, Morgan begged for Lucky to stay instead of being shipped off to LA to Kate. And Clint couldn’t say no to the Stark kids- he had _tried_ but their big brown eyes always got the best of him. There had been rules, like only Peter could walk Lucky because sometimes the old guy got hyper. Nothing too outrageous even. And if they had any issues they could call Kate or Bucky, one of them could handle it. So when Clint left he felt like a good dog dad, felt like he left it in good hands.

And he did- he knows he did. But when he was on his way home Bucky broke the news to him. Morgan wanted to walk Lucky just one block on their way back and Peter agreed. Lucky must have caught a scent or something because he “took off little a damn bottle rocket”, Bucky’s paraphrased words from Peter. And while Clint was sad, he figured the good mutt would amble his way back, no problem. But he never did. When Clint finally got home, there had been no sightings of Lucky. Morgan was a hot mess, crying, blaming herself despite Clint’s weak protests that these things happen.

As December weaned on, the nights got colder and Clint started to feel more hopeless. He’d check the animal shelters every day, check with anyone he could in order to find Lucky. Each night when the temperatures dropped dangerously low, Clint would sit out just a little longer until either Bucky or one of his neighbors dragged him inside. The thought of Lucky enduring the weather made Clint sick to his stomach.

And then there was the big blow up just three days ago. Tony offered to buy Clint a new dog, Morgan excited by hearing the word “puppy”. And Clint tried to brush it off, downplay it as he said no thank you. Clint had tried to act less bothered in front of Morgan because he knew how guilty the little girl felt. But Tony was pushing, _Bucky_ was pushing, and Clint snapped.

“I don’t want a different fucking dog, I want my dog,” he shouted and instantly shrank back when Morgan flinched, pulling herself closer to Tony. Clint now had another thing that was making him like utter trash.

“Clint,” Bucky sighed.

“No. Look, if he comes back that would be great. But I’m not replacing my dog,” Clint said firmly, trying to tone down his anger. “Getting me a puppy for Christmas isn’t going to make me feel any less miserable than I do right now not knowing what happened to Pizza dog. So no. No thank you. Only… only Lucky will do. Can’t replace him.”

Clint took his hearing aids out the moment he left the tower. He could see Bucky steaming, likely mad about Clint’s anger flashing in front of Morgan. Clint didn’t need someone to tell him to feel worse about that. Bucky tried to pull Clint inside when they got to the apartment but Clint shook his head and sat down on the stoop, taking up guard until his joints hurt from the cold. Clint was surprised when Bucky joined him, sitting down next to him before signing _we will find him, I promise._

\-----------

It was Christmas Eve and Clint stayed home. He didn’t want to go to a party and pretend to be happy, and he could drink in Bed-Stuy just the same as in Manhattan. Clint wasn’t in the mood to sing off key to the songs he loved, watch movies, eat too much food. Clint just wanted to find Lucky and breathe him in. But he was forbidden to sit outside that night- he had caught a cold and Bucky insisted he try to starve it off because Clint got the “man cold””, which was just rude. Clint closed his eyes and listened to the sound of nothingness. He took a deep breath before he started sniffling and coughing again. _Worst Christmas ever_ he thought, and Clint had had some pretty bad Christmases.

He didn’t open his eyes even when some light seemed to turn on in the room. He knew it was likely Bucky or Natasha, and if it was a bad guy, well, Clint didn’t have the energy to care. He felt a very familiar _oomf_ on the bed and his eyes shot open just as a mess of brown and gold, which smelled like completely garbage, got in his face and started licking him.

“Lucky!” Clint exclaimed, trying to sit up. Lucky had other plans by this point; he was crawling all over Clint, his whole back end wagging as he stepped all over Clint’s body. Clint wrapped his arms around Lucky and tried to keep him still, tried to get him to calm down.

Clint looked at the door, trying to blink away tears and focus. Bucky smiled as he watched the two, leaning casually against the frame. Clint mouthed a “how” out his way. Bucky shrugged before he signed _Christmas miracle_. Clint smiled more before he became engrossed by Lucky again.

“Okay boy, bathroom. Come on. You stink,” Clint said, shoving Lucky off him before picking him up and walking.

Clint was thankful Lucky wasn’t scared of baths and sat there patiently as Clint filled the tub and began to bathe him. Clint wouldn’t stop the puppy talking, calling him a good boy, a stinky boy, best dog in the world, and Lucky’s tail never stopped wagging. Clint tilted his head back when he felt Bucky putting his hearing aids in.

“Would you look at that- you and pizza dog are meant to be,” Bucky said. “Found him in a dumpster.” Clint stuck his tongue out. “In the time I’ve known you I’ve found you that way… how many times now?”

“You were out looking for him?”

“Every damn night for the last three days,” Bucky answered and Clint was not going to start crying again. “What you said was right, y’know? You shouldn’t have shouted it with Morgan in the room, probably could have dropped the F-bomb, but… there is no replacing Lucky. Lucky is family.”

Lucky gave the softest _boof_ in agreement and Clint leaned back against Bucky’s legs. “Yeah… he really is. Thank you, Bucky. Best Christmas gift ever.”


	3. I ain't gettin' nuttin' for Christmas

_I ain’t gettin nuttin’ for Christmas  
Stevie and Tony are mad.  
I ain't gettin nuttin’ for Christmas  
‘Cause I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad._

_I broke my bow on a Doombot's head  
Somebody snitched on me  
I hid my dog in Tasha bed  
Somebody snitched on me  
I spilled coffee on Vision’s arm  
I made Thor eat two worms  
I bought a gun with Nick Fury’s card  
Somebody snitched on me_

_I ain’t gettin nuttin’ for Christmas  
Carol and T’Challa are mad.  
I ain't gettin nuttin’ for Christmas  
‘Cause I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad._

_I broke my arm playing with Wanda  
Somebody snitched on me  
I hid in vents and made Sam jump  
Somebody snitched on me  
I put purple hair dye in Bucky’s shampoo  
I might have kissed Wade Wilson too  
I made Peter show Hulk how to twerk  
Somebody snitched on me_

_So I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas  
All the Avengers are mad  
I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas  
So I might as well go back to bed_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious- I ain't gettin' nuttin' for Christmas is one of my all time favorite Christmas songs of all time. <3 And does it not fit with Clint's life? XD Always up to somethin'. And look! A fic where I actually don't swear! It's a Christmas miracle!


	4. Grinch

Clint ran alongside of Bucky, which wasn’t exactly easy when the guy could _run_ , but he managed for the time being. He glanced back to spot their target in hot pursuit then looked forward, jumping when Bucky did. His stomach did a little flip and he grabbed onto Bucky, wrapped his legs around him. He let the super soldier hit the floor for the both of them, Clint rolling off on impact.

“You just _had_ to call him the Grinch!” Bucky shouted angrily.

“Well he was being a Grinch!” Clint shouted back. “I don’t know why you are running with me, Barnes! He’s just here to kick my butt, not yours.”

“Just get us to the damn room,” Bucky snapped.

“So pushy.”

Clint rounded the stairs and flung himself over the railing, catching a few on the way down to slow his descent. He could hear the rumbles from up above and he looked up before heading inside a large room, filled with a lot of things that were smashed. Bucky stood next to him and they looked at each other and waited.

“You didn’t have to stink, stank, stunk him,” Bucky growled.

“He _spittled_ on me,” Clint protested. “How was I not going to take that opportunity.” Bucky glared. “Again… you are here because…?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t die,” Bucky snapped.

“He isn’t going to kill me,” Clint said before the floor vibrated. “Incoming.”

They watched as the Hulk came into the room looking more than his normal amount of pissed. He was on there in a second and picked Clint up. Clint held his hand out when he saw Bucky reaching back.

“You ate cookie!”

“You left it on the counter,” Clint defended.

“It for Santa!”

“I can’t believe we are even having this argument,” Clint groaned. “How was I supposed to know it was for Santa? It was a _cookie_. It looked good. Tasted good. And I- hey!”

Clint landed on a stack of pillows that the team agreed to keep in the room. It took a lot of time and patience to teach the big guy that that is where you throw team members, but it sure as hell felt good when it happened compared to the alternative. Clint sat up in the mess and rubbed the back of his head.

“Hey hey, I got an idea,” Clint said cheerfully. “Why don’t we make a new cookie for Santa. An even better cookie! Everyone wins!”

“You eat it,” Hulk huffed out.

“... okay, probably,” Clint agreed before he got up, brushing off himself. He leaned against Barnes. “But it's Christmas Eve! We’ll have Bucky boy here lock me away after we make the cookie so then Santa can still have a cookie from Hulk. How does that sound?”

“Lock Hawkguy in chair.”

Clint noticed the narrowed expression in Bucky’s eyes and he nudged him more. “Naw, no chair. Better than chair. We have a deal?” he asked.

The Hulk seemed to accept the terms and started his way back up the stairs. Clint waited a moment then nudged Bucky a little more. “He watched The Santa Clause and saw the scene where the elves tie the policeman to the chair.” Clint wasn’t any happier when Bucky looked at him, still glaring. “No chairs,” he said softly.

Bucky grunted and walked. “You are such an idiot,” he commented, heading for the elevator. “Come on before he comes back down for a round two and misses the pillow stack."

Everything went smoothly for an hour that it took to get the Hulk to help with the cookie, decorate the singular cookie, and then the clean up. As soon as Clint declared it done he was lifted in the air and carried off. Bucky followed behind, snickering.

“Hey! Bucky is locking me away,” Clint protested.

“Hulk not Grinch. Hawkguy Grinch.”

“I’m not the green one,” Clint sang tauntingly. He was joggled about a little and he laughed. “Okay, okay, Hawkeye will stop,” he promised. “Hey, wait, where are you-”

Hulk tossed Clint into a storage closet and slammed the door before he looked at Bucky. Bucky shrugged and grabbed a chair, tucking it under the handle and leaned against the door casually. With a smirk, Bucky raised his fist up and the Hulk gave it a light bump, also grinning from ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am feeling quite Grinchy today- lack of sleep will do that to a girl! And Clint isn't a Grinch, he's just a food (especially desserts) thieving prick at times But the idea of Bucky and Hulk working together to screw with Clint is priceless in my mind.


	5. All I want for Christmas is you

Clint never claimed to be a smart man; he was always doing something reckless, something dumb, and it just so happened that most of the time those dumb ideas worked in his favor. Clint also never claimed to be a good boyfriend because he was certainly _not_ great at that; he tended to be insecure and at the first sign of trouble, Clint was out. He hated the fighting, the late nights and the inevitable fall out, so Clint tended to stick to avoiding those situations, not wanting the messy emotions.

Spinning a quarter on the table, Clint tried to ignore the growing sensation to grab his coat and run. He was the one who screwed up his relationship with Bucky, he was the one who was ready to run the moment things got hard; Bucky deserved better than what Clint could offer him and Clint knew that. But after spending the last three nights alone, the last two full days by himself, Clint had time to think and the regrets were bubbling up. All he wanted was Bucky back, to apologize, beg for forgiveness, promise to do better.

Clint grabbed his phone and tried to call him. Maybe they could meet in neutral territory and grab a coffee? Clint could do this- Clint could open up to Bucky, let him in, even if it hurt to do so. But when the phone rang straight to voicemail Clint felt his heart sink.

It was two days until Christmas and for the third year in a row he was going to be alone. Tony had Pepper and her family; Natasha and Steve had taken an actual vacation for the third year in a row. Bruce was on the west coast working on some research science thing while the university was shut down so he had free reign over the equipment, and Thor was out doing whatever it was Thor did on holidays Clint wasn’t even sure he celebrated. It was going to be another holiday of microwaved meals and watching _The Christmas Story_ on repeat.

Clint looked up and saw a picture on the coffee table of him and Bucky; Clint was practically sprawled all over him with the widest smile on his face while Bucky laughed, his face scrunched up from the action. He stared at it for a minute before he swore and made it to his feet. He grabbed his coat and shoved some shoes on his feet before he left his apartment.

_I am the one that ruined this, I am the one who has to fix this._ Clint wasn’t sure how exactly, but he was hoping Bucky could help him with that. Hell, he was hoping Bucky wouldn’t just slam the door in his face the moment he saw him. _What the hell do you get a guy you want to apologize to?_ he wondered as he made it down the street. This was his first time dating a guy and he felt woefully unprepared. _Does he like flowers? Or chocolate? For the love of everything holy, do not get him an animal, Barton._

Settling on just himself, Clint got into the Tower. “FRIDAY! Where is Bucky?”

“I am sorry, Agent Barton, but Mr. Barnes left an hour ago for the airport.”

Clint froze in his spot. “The airport? What do you _mean_ the airport?” Clint ignored the AI system and pulled out his phone, calling Steve.

“ _I am on vacation, Clint,_ ” Steve said pointedly.

“Yeah, I know. Bucky is at the airport apparently. Where is he going?” Clint asked frantically.

“ _You think I am really going to tell you after you broke up with him?_ ” Steve asked and Clint could hear the anger in his tone. “ _Let the guy have a good Christmas and- Hey!_ ”

“ _JFK. He is going to spend the holiday in Jamaica,” Natasha informed him. “Clint Barton, you either fix it or you leave him alone. You understand me?_ ”

“Natasha, I could kiss you. Love you, bye.”

Clint didn’t have much time. He ran for the subway, sliding down the middle post separating the two sides of the stairs, apologizing to people as he went down. He was being that guy, but he needed to get to the airport. This couldn’t wait because Clint wasn’t sure if he would be brave enough when Bucky got back.

Clint tried to call Bucky again, tried to send him texts. He just needed him to stall- maybe say there is an Avengers event. _They could hold a plane for a superhero, right?_ Clint wasn’t sure the answer was yes. But between shitty service and Bucky not answering, Clint wasn’t getting through. He could cry from frustration as he pressed his hands against his head to keep calm.

As soon as Clint made it outside and waited for the airtrain to take him to JFK his phone went off. Clint fumbled to grab it out of his pocket and checked the name before answering. “Bucky!”

“ _Clint, what in the hell?_ ” Bucky asked. “ _Ten missed calls. Is everything okay?_ ”

_God, he sounds concerned when he shouldn’t even care_ Clint thought, completely in awe of the man. “Bucky, I need your flight information. Or… or I need you to hold the flight. Something.”

“ _How did you know I was at the airport?_ ” Bucky asked suspiciously. “ _Look, I can’t hold up the flight. Whatever this is, it needs to wait until-_ ”

“Bucky-”

“ _\- I get back. I’m sorry, Clint. I hope you have a great Christmas, alright? Keep out of trouble while everyone is gone._ ”

“No, no, Bucky,” Clint begged but he had hung up. Clint resisted the urge to fling his phone as he hopped on the train. He needed a plan, a plan Bucky wasn’t going to be mad about, which was becoming increasingly unlikely. But Bucky was already mad at him, so what’s pushing that envelope a little further?

Clint ran into JFK, ignoring a police officer who told him to slow down. Clint fumbled with his wallet and got his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge out. He bypassed the people in the queue who angrily shouted at him and he made it to the front.

“Sir, I am going to ask you to-”

“Agent Barton,” Clint said breathlessly. “I need to catch a flight.” The TSA agent looked annoyed. “I’m-uh- an Avenger?”

“You Iron Fist?” he asked.

Clint hung his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m Iron fist,” Clint agreed before pulling out his Avengers ID badge. “Please, this is important.” The TSA agent looked at it then waved him through. Clint kissed the man’s cheek before he took off on a sprint. He slowed only to look at the list of flights before he called Bucky again.

“ _Clint, I am serious,_ ” Bucky said, his tone reproachful. 

“I am at JFK right now,” Clint wheezed. “Bucky- I just need to-”

“ _I am about to board. Go home._ ”

“ _This is the last boarding call for flight 17780 to Jamaica. You are boarding at gate 12B in terminal 4._ ”

Clint was at the wrong terminal even. He sank down and pulled one of his legs up to his chest, the other tucked under. He deflated instantly. “Yeah… you are right. I’ll go home,” Clint agreed sadly, fighting back the tears. “I… I hope you have a good vacation, Barnes. Take a lot of pictures and… be safe, okay?” Clint hung up the phone and gently sat it down next to him before he hunched his shoulders. He missed his chance.

Clint wasn’t sure how long he had stayed in his spot, though he was positive it was too long to not look pathetic. He leaned his head back and hit it against the pole behind him as he looked up at the ceiling, Christmas decorations hanging low. He finally pulled himself to his feet and picked his phone up, shoving it into his pocket. He took a deep breath before he turned to make his way home.

“Barton.” Clint looked up and his eyes widen at the sight. Bucky’s hair was a mess, falling out of the ponytail that was high up on his head and he was sweating. Clint quickly wiped his face off and gave Bucky the best smile he could.

“You were supposed to be-” Clint started.

“You sounded weird on the phone, you scared me,” Bucky said, reaching out and grabbing Clint’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bucky looked concerned, almost verging on terrified and Clint’s stomach fluttered. He was inspecting Clint’s face, his eyes traveling down, trying to find an injury.

Clint bit his lip for a moment before he looked down. “I… I don’t deserve this but can I have a do-over?” Clint asked. “I know I really fucked this up, Bucky. I know that. But I… Three nights without you was enough time for me to know what I want. And I want you and I am worried that I don’t get it off my chest now that by the time you got back I’d lose all the nerve I had and I’d miss this, miss us. You’d find someone better and-”

“Jesus, Clint,” Bucky said before pulling him into a hug. Clint slowly wrapped his arms around Bucky and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to be alone again,” Clint whispered. “I’ll do anything to make this up to you, Bucky. You want to have all those long heartfelt talks? I’ll do my best. You want to… you want to travel? I’ll pay for it. You want to yell, throw shit at me, anything- _anything_ , and I can take it. I swear I’ll do-”

“Calm down and breathe,” Bucky instructed. Clint nodded and obeyed. “I just want you to trust me, Clint. That’s all. I love you and-”

“What?” Clint pushed his body away, tilting his head back. He was not prepared for those words, wasn’t sure when he would be.

“Shut up and let me finish,” Bucky said. “I love you and I just… I lost it. You made me lose my train of thought.” Bucky loosened his grip on Clint before his hands reached back, taking hold of Clint’s and holding them down, his fingers slotting between Clint’s. “Do-over?”

“It’s literally all I want for Christmas,” Clint said weakly with a hint of a smile.

Bucky sucked his lips into his mouth and his eyebrows pulled in, giving Clint the _Oh my God you are precious_ look. “You are… so fucking corny at times.”

“I will literally sing it,” Clint offered.

“Well, we certainly can’t have that during the holiday season in the middle of the airport,” Bucky mused. He took a step closer and kissed Clint, his hands dropping Clint’s in exchange for his jaw. Clint leaned into it, not pressing too much further because Bucky was already pushing his own PDA rules. “Come on… let’s go home.”

“But Jamaica,” Clint said softly.

Bucky seemed to ignore Clint, moving and forcing Clint to walk with him. “Think we can find a Christmas tree and ornaments this late notice and decorate up the Bed-Stuy apartment?”

“I dunno but we can sure as hell try,” Clint replied.


	6. Whiskers on Kittens

“You are literally called the _Winter_ Soldier. Buck up, Buck,” Clint said a little too cheerfully as he started pulling on his coat, adjusting it as loudly as he could.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, that is not because I like the snow, or even do well in it.” If Bucky’s count was correct it was time three today even that they have had this conversation. Nonetheless, he was bundling himself up against the cold. “Why do we have to go outside again?”

“Because it snowed overnight, duh,” Clint answered because _of course it’s that obvious, dummy._ He wrapped a scarf around his neck before he put a beanie on. “And before all the tourists get up and ruin it, I’d kinda like to see it all fresh and new.”

“Right. How old are you again?” Bucky asked.

Clint wiggled his eyebrows as he pulled his gloves on. “Old enough to know to appreciate the little things in life.”

And yeah- that got him. Bucky was always urging Clint to slow down, take in the little moments. And now he was going to use that again him, the little twit. Clint had a habit of keeping himself busy at all times- it was his way to keep his mind clear, to escape whatever demons stayed with him that he never seemed to want to talk about. He was getting back, starting to learn to like the quiet again, but Bucky could still see the way it made Clint fidget if he sat there for too long.

Shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun off the fresh snow, Bucky looked around and spotted Clint as he began to make a snowman. He snorted and considered helping before he just leaned against the cabin they had rented for the week. Clint didn’t seem to complain much, singing Christmas music off key loudly, not a care in the world. It was moments like these Bucky was learning to appreciate. He liked his quiet, his space, and Clint? Clint took away both of those comforts in the most subtle, yet demanding of ways.

But what comforts he took away he replaced and then some. Clint was always there when Bucky needed him, he would listen, talk about nothing if that’s what Bucky needed. The small touches that Bucky never knew he had missed in his life. The way Clint didn’t shy away when Bucky had a bad day, when he had nightmares- he would just stand by and push through the pain with him. They were making each other better piece by piece in whatever ways they could and it somehow worked better than Bucky ever could have imagined. He thought in the beginning they were just going to have a physical relationship, nothing as serious as it had become, and certainly not as quickly as it had.

Watching the goofball that was Clint Barton, tongue out to catch the falling snow, brought a newfound level of peace that Bucky didn’t know could be achieved. Bucky watched as Clint crouched down to look at something near their cabin before he was stalking it.

“Clint?”

“Sh.”

Bucky felt his muscles tense and he scanned the area. He couldn’t see or hear anyone nearby. Clint crouched again and that’s when Bucky heard it, the soft soft mewing. He blinked and walked over as Clint straightened himself up. In his arms was a little white kitten, shaking from the cold. Clint automatically unzipped his coat and put the little guy in there gently before zipping it a little ways up, just a pink nose and big blue eyes poking out.

“So… uh… we can keep it, right?” Clint asked hesitantly, an unsure smile on his face.

Bucky rose his eyebrows. “You… want a cat?” Clint shrugged, his hands protectively over the little bundle in his coat. “What about Lucky?”

“Lucky will love it!” Clint answered excitedly. “We can keep it?”

“It’ll need food, the litter box cleaned and-”

“So we can keep it?” Clint asked again.

“It’s another responsibility.”

“A cute, tiny, filled with kitty cat hate responsibility,” Clint said in baby talk, and Bucky felt himself ease into the idea. _Damn Clint, using his baby talk voice._ Clint looked back up with a pout, his smile following a little more sure of the answer this time around. “So… we can keep it? You keep saying how you like cats...”

Bucky sighed. “Let’s get it inside and make sure it doesn’t have-” Clint was already gone, trudging his way back into the cabin. “Yeah, it’s okay, I was done talking,” he called after Clint.

Clint’s head peeked out, his eyes wide with amazement. “We are keeping it?”

“We are keeping it,” Bucky agreed. “I’m naming it though.”

“As long as it’s Frosty,” Clint agreed. “Or Frost-”

Bucky snorted and closed the door. “I'm not naming the cat Frosty. Or Frostbite.” Clint whined. “You know why we are here right?”

“Alone time and so Steve doesn’t give us eyes after we roll out of bed?” Clint guessed.

“... aside from Steve giving us disapproving looks. Which, I told you, it’s because _I’m_ sleeping in later, not because he doesn’t approve of us,” Bucky clarified. Clint waved his hand around like that part was old news.

“Uh- skiing,” Clint answered after thinking on it. “And because I had vacation time to kill and I forced my loving, supportive, crazy attractive boyfriend along?” _Oh God, what does he want this time?_ “Snowboarding. Oh yeah- I got a snowboarding lesson today!” 

Bucky still didn’t understand the point of the snowboarding lessons- Clint _knew_ how to do it, but for whatever reason he seemed to be enjoying taking classes on literally everything he could during vacation. Skiing, snowboarding, he even signed them up for a couples cookie decorating class, which resulted in too many photos and Clint having food coloring staining his skin for a solid day.

“Let’s name him Alpine. Or her. Whatever it is.”

“Alpine?” Clint asked. “Hmmm- I like it.” He sat the little fuzzball down and watched it teeter and mew on tiny legs, it’s tiny tail quivering. “You are a cute little Alpine, aren’t you?” Clint asked, laying down on his stomach, letting the kitten bite at his nose. “I wonder if it’ll like pizza.”


	7. It's Cold Outside

“I gotta go,” Clint said, nuzzling Bucky’s neck and interrupting the peace.

“Naw,” Bucky said. “Whats the hurry?”

“You know what the hurry is, Buck,” Clint replied, though he made absolutely no move to actually peel himself off of Bucky.

“It’s cold outside,” Bucky pointed out.

Clint snorted. “Thanks for that. It is December in New York,” Clint teased. He tipped his head up and kissed Bucky. Bucky did his best to pull Clint up, pull him closer, keep him still in the moment. Clint smacked his arm and laughed. “No. I’m serious Bucky. It’s getting close to nine. Steve is going to be home in a half hour if I am lucky.”

“But Clint,” Bucky whined and Clint tried not to linger on how exactly that made him feel.

“Natasha is going to start becoming suspicious,” Clint warned. “Let alone if Sam finds out.”

“Mhhh, screw’em, it’s cold outside,” Bucky said again, not letting go of Clint just yet.

“You are the one who wanted to keep this under wraps,” Clint said. 

Which wasn’t a lie- Steve had done a lot to keep Clint and Bucky from hanging out lately. It was weird, maybe a little possessive, and Clint figured it was because of his flirting; Steve was just being a good friend, protecting Bucky. So Bucky proposed this secret relationship, sneaking around behind Steve’s back. It involved a lot of early mornings, which wasn’t exactly when Clint enjoyed being up; it involved a lot of figuring out time tables for his job. It was honestly the most exciting thing Clint had done, even if it was frustrating because he wanted to stay longer, or stay the night for a change.

“So we tell him,” Bucky said.

“Ha!” Clint got up and grabbed his sweatpants, pulling them on. “Right. That should be fun. Hey Steve- I’ve been secretly banging your boy for, like, a month.”

“Please don’t ever describe it that way again,” Bucky begged, getting up himself and putting his clothes back on. Clint looked back and watched Bucky pull on his shirt, watched the way it stretched and felt his mouth go a bit dry again. He could drink this up all night. “More like… approach it the adult way. Say we have been seeing each other quietly-”

“Oh, is that what today was? Quiet?” Clint quipped. _Worth it_ he thought when Bucky blushed.

“Clint, come on,” Bucky groaned.

“You did say my name an _awful_ lot,” Clint teased as he climbed back onto the bed and pulling Bucky close. “Teasing aside, I have to go whether or not we tell Steve. Lucky is home and by now he probably has his dog legs crossed.”

“Can’t Gill take him out?” Bucky asked. Clint rose an eyebrow and waited for Bucky to think that one through. Bucky knew full well that Clint didn’t let people into his apartment- that was a huge security risk. Clint had his weapons there, some more hidden than others; he even left his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge behind, along with a few low-security risk files he was supposed to go over. “Clint, look at the snow coming down. It’s practically up to your knees.”

Clint laughed and shoved Bucky back before standing. “Wow, what an exaggeration,” he teased as he grabbed his hoodie. He pulled it on before he ruffled his hair a little.

“Practically a blizzard,” Bucky added dramatically. Clint stared at him in confusion- Bucky was never this dramatic. “Think about my life long sorrow if you caught pneumonia-”

“Oh… OH my God!” Clint exclaimed. “You are baby it’s cold outside-ing me!” he accused before he started laughing.

“I was really wondering how far I was going to have to push it before you caught on,” Bucky said. He grabbed onto Clint’s shirt and pulled him back in for another long, drawn out kiss that made Clint a little weak in the knees. “We should tell him though. I hate the sneaking.”

“Yeah, alright, but tomorrow,” Clint said. “I’m not lying, I do need to get Lucky and get him outside before the snow really does start coming down.”

Bucky pouted and Clint bit his bottom lip out of retaliation. _I have got to go before this becomes an all nighter_ he thought but he was having way too much fun with this. “I’d call you a cab but there are none to be had out there.”

“God, I love,” Clint groaned, kissing Bucky again. _Okay, maybe a little bit longer won’t kill me._


	8. Sick for the Holidays

It was a fact well known to everyone that Clint absolutely loved Christmas. It seemed like on December first he would wake up just a little earlier leading up to the holiday to decorate. Clint actually used his vacation time during the month and would spend his days off volunteering, caroling, anything he could to soak in the holiday spirit.

The only thing that Bucky didn’t enjoy about Clint’s love for Christmas was his obsession with Hallmark movies. Clint didn’t seem to care that there was a glaringly obvious common theme between every single movie- he curled up every night under a blanket in the common space and forced everyone to watch if they wanted to occupy the same space. If anyone said anything he would turn it up until everyone left the floor. It was the most obnoxious trait Bucky had seen yet come from the blond.

It was Christmas Eve when Bucky noticed the oddity in the common space. It wasn’t the fact that Tony had bought pizza, which was _not_ something people should be eating on Christmas Eve; it wasn’t that Natasha had lopped her hair off, sporting a very short style that Bucky knew Steve probably hated. None of that even phased him anymore.

“Where is Barton?” Bucky asked.

“Does it matter? We aren’t having to watch Hallmark,” Tony stressed before he took a large bite from his pizza. “Pepper doesn’t even watch those and I am forced to watch all the sappy movies with her.”

“Natasha?”

Natasha looked up from her book. “He said he was staying in his apartment tonight. I didn’t ask. If he wants to watch those terrible movies in the comfort of Bed-Stuy, I am not going to complain.”

Bucky didn’t understand why no one seemed to pick up on how weird it was for Clint not to be there. Clint had been around every day of December thus far, wearing those terrible Christmas sweaters. Bucky could only sit there for a few minutes before he got to his feet and grabbed a pizza box.

“Bucky?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged and got on the elevator. He couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was; a bad feeling was settling in his gut and he just needed to make sure Clint was okay. It was stupid- Clint wasn’t his responsibility, they were barely friends. Part of that was Bucky’s fault, he didn’t know how to handle the blond, didn’t have a clue how to bond with the guy. If Clint wasn’t away on a mission, he was typically shooting or connected to Natasha’s hip, and Natasha wasn’t his biggest fan.

Bucky texted Steve to get Clint’s address and then plugged it into the GPS, something Clint had shown him how to do on one of their rare run ins. Bucky made his way through the city that never seemed to sleep, took in all the lights as he made his way to Clint’s. As he got closer he was wondering if he was pushing some kind of boundary- maybe Clint had his own family over, or was in a relationship. Maybe he had had enough of everyone cracking jokes at his movies and wanted to watch them in peace.

Bucky stared at the rundown building and was taken aback. When the guy could just live at the Tower, why would he choose this place? It didn’t make sense. Bucky double checked the address before he entered the building. _He would live on the top freaking floor_ he thought as he climbed up the stairs because of course the elevator wasn’t working, why would it?

There was a lot of hesitation when he got to Clint’s door. _This is probably pushing my welcome_ he thought before he knocked. He could barely hear a television on, but he couldn’t make out what movie it was. He knocked again and texted Steve that Clint wasn’t answering, starting to get more concerned.

There was a shuffling noise on the other side before the door opened. Before Bucky could scold him for not locking the door he got a glimpse of Clint and frowned. He had that glossy, hazy look in his eyes and his face was paler than normal. The tip of his nose could almost rival Rudolph’s at the moment. He had a purple blanket wrapped around him and he was shuffling around in shorts and a thick hoodie.

“Mhh?” Clint asked. “Barnes? All good?”

He only had one hearing aid in it looked like. “I was concerned because… are you sick?”

Clint blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded. “ ‘s why I’m home and not out,” Clint admitted. He almost looked embarrassed as he mumbled it, tugging his blanket a little closer towards his body. “So- Uh- if the world isn’t ending or something… I’m gonna go back and lay down on the couch…”

“I brought you pizza,” Bucky said lamely.

Clint’s eyes drifted down before his nose crinkled. “I… think I’d probably get sick,” he said. “But thank you.” He hurried to cover his face before he sneezed about a half dozen times. “Seriously, get outta here before you catch this.” Clint turned and shuffled back to his couch before he climbed over the top of it and Bucky heard the thump of his body hitting the cushions in the other side.

Bucky stood there in disbelief. _He’s not even going to lock the door. What the hell is with this guy?_ Bucky shuffled his feet, trying to decide what to do. He sighed and walked inside, closing the door and locking it. When he turned he saw Clint peering around the couch’s arm, his eyebrows pulled together. Bucky hesitated before he walked over, setting the box down.

“I’m going to make you soup,” Bucky informed him. Clint looked a bit wary of the idea but didn’t voice his concerns. “You want that any louder?” he asked, pointing to the television. “It’s your favorite one from this year.”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up and he looked to the television and back, landing on Bucky suspiciously. He tried to ignore the look of distrust in Clint’s eyes, who didn’t seem to want to answer the question; instead, Bucky turned and went into the disaster Clint called his kitchen. After much digging Bucky found canned soup, something that wasn’t at all appealing, and read the label. With a sigh and no other options, Bucky added water to a pot, poured in the soup, and waited.

By the time Bucky made it back to the living room Clint was tucked into the side of the couch, at least three blankets deep. He held the soup out and watched the surprise grow on Clint’s face. He hesitated before he took the bowl, mumbling a thanks. _Why the hell is he so confused by someone making him soup?_ And then it dawned on him-

“Has… has no one taken care of you when you were sick before?” Clint looked up at Bucky through his lashes, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Not even Natasha?” Clint looked away, trying to focus on the television. “Barton-”

“I dun wanna make other people sick,” he answered finally. “ ‘m fine.”

Somehow that even felt weird to Bucky. Clint would walk around that common space like he owned it, got far too close to everyone, sprawled on everyone, was _there_ for everyone- and he wouldn’t come around when he was sick. Bucky wondered if the guy had a working elevator here if he would ever be at Avengers Tower to begin with. It unsettled him a little to think about it; for a guy who seemed to be a people person, his level of self-reliance was higher than what Bucky expected.

“You should go before I make you sick,” Clint said, his face basically in the bowl of soup, soaking in the warmth.

“Super soldier- we don’t get sick,” Bucky explained. “But if you want me to go because you want to be alone, then alright, your house, your rules.”

Clint stared at him and Bucky couldn’t get a feel of what he was thinking. “... I’ll have a full on man cold,” Clint said weakly. _Another excuse._

“I… don’t know what that is,” Bucky replied. “Look, I took care of Steve all the time. This ain’t nothing new to me. So either say the words ‘Barnes, I don’t want you here’ or finish that soup so I can clean the bowl.”

_I would love to listen to that inner monologue_ Bucky thought as he watched Clint struggle. Bucky waited until Clint seemed to relax and eat his soup before Bucky opened the pizza box and started to eat. He sat down on the other end of the couch and got comfortable before he watched the movie. Score one for me I guess he thought. He was certain that Clint was going to flat out refuse everything.

It was several minutes later before he felt the couch sag then Clint’s head hit his lap. “Okay?” Clint asked.

“Are you?” Bucky redirected.

Clint waited a moment before he started on the move again, getting comfortable. How he managed to actually fit on the couch, Bucky would never understand; every inch of Clint was covered in the three blankets as he finally settled, curled up improbably tight.

“If I fall asleep, wake me up so you can go,” Clint said, his eyes on Bucky again.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky replied. “Don’t fall asleep with that in your ear.”

Clint blinked and his eyes flickered away. “Is this… some trap?” he asked softly and Bucky frowned. “You came here to check on me, made me soup, knew my favorite movie from this year… and now you know about my- what is this even?”

“I’m observant,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Not okay with this?”

“Not used to this,” Clint muttered. “It’s weird.” 

He reached up and took his hearing aid out before he flicked it into a bowl on the end table. It was an odd dismissal, a cut off point from talking, but somehow it felt normal. Clint didn’t make it long before he had fallen asleep, his breathing evening out. Bucky only managed to grab the remote before his phone went off.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky whispered before he snorted. _Right… can’t hear._

_“Where are you?”_

“Clint’s. Guy fell asleep on me,” Bucky answered, looking down at the tip of a red nose, saw little sweeps of blond hair.

_“So… coming home?”_

“I mean he is literally on me,” Bucky clarified. “The guy is sick. Didn’t want anyone else to catch the cold. Guess he doesn’t come around when he is sick, likes to stay by himself and flush it out.”

Steve was chuckling on the other end of the line. _“You and finding sick people to nurture.”_

Bucky smiled a little when Clint shifted in his sleep, able to see his face a little better now. “More like me finding stupid blonds to take care of,” Bucky replied. “I’ll be home later, punk.” He hung up and watched Clint for a little bit longer, the situation feeling far too comfortable before he looked up and changed the channel. _This isn’t the worst way to spend the holiday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but for some reason I picture Clint steering clear of people when he is sick. Natasha doesn't like the gross factor, though she would obviously try to be there if Clint really begged for it. And let's face it, Bucky is a sucker for a blond who needs taken care of, so sick Clint is perfect.


	9. Let it Snow

_This is my life now_ Bucky thought, his eye twitching as he watched his boyfriend get hooked up to monitors and surrounded by blankets. At least this time it wasn’t because he was seriously injured or hypothermic. Well, at least he wasn’t at the moment. Clint was grinning like an idiot though, and he was not backing down.

“Hey! Hey Bucky! Has it… snowed it?” Clint asked with a wink, holding his hands up and snowflakes started floating down when he shook them.

“Clint,” Bucky groaned, rubbing his face.

“ _Barton, we need you to stop until we know if this is having a negative impact on your body,_ ” Bruce directed.

“You guys are… _snow_ fun,” Clint said and Bucky thought about strangling him.

“Clint, please,” Bucky implored, rubbing his head. “This isn’t funny. Nothing about this is funny.”

“Hey now, I don’t see you suddenly turning to Jack Frost,” Clint argued. “If anyone should be mad about it, it’s me. And I am. I hate magic. But I might as well get some sweet puns out while I’m at it.”

“I made you some tea,” Natasha told Bucky as she walked in, holding out a mug to him.

“He’s got a hottie right here,” Clint winked. Bucky groaned and hung his head. “That’s right, you married me. No take backs!”

“We aren’t married yet,” Bucky threatened.

“Awww, baby, no,” Clint whined pathetically as Natasha handed him some coffee. A nurse walked back in to connect a few more probes. “Hi, I’m Clint, ice to meet you.” _At least the nurse can laugh about this._

“Focus,” Natasha snapped. Clint’s grin disappeared in two seconds flat and he had his perfectly blank face on. “What happened?”

“Oh come on, I’ve already said this like five times,” Clint grumbled. “I was chasing after the little shit and he hit me with a snowball. Everything felt cold, which I’m not the biggest fan of, and when I woke up I had this snowflake tattoo on my neck and I can make it snow.”

“What else?” Natasha pressed.

“Literally it, Natasha,” Clint said. “I don’t remember anything else. Strange is trying to see if he can reverse it, or how to I guess. Tony and Bruce are making sure this isn’t a negative impact on me, and for now I get to be hooked up to all of whatever the hell these do and I get a heated blanket. Lab rat- I’m officially a lab rat today.”

“ _No stressing Barton out,_ ” Bruce said through the intercom system. “ _His vitals become erratic and look at his hands._ ”

Bucky and Natasha both looked down just as Clint did. “Huh- I literally have all the chill right now,” Clint commented, brushing the snow off his bed. “Ha! None of you get to snap at me! Suck it!”

“Oh, just wait until this is fixed,” Natasha warned and even Bucky could feel the threat.

“Brrrr- icier than I am,” Clint quipped before he laughed. “Nat! Tasha! Love of my life! Come back! At least bring me back a burrrr-rito. Awwww, she’s gone. Bucky- babe- love of my life-“

Bucky sighed. “It’s going to be a long night.”

\---

It was close to eleven at night before they decided to only keep Clint on a few monitors. There were a lot of rules now because they didn’t like the results they were seeing. No caffeine, nothing that will upset him, nothing to get him too excited. He had more heating blankets now, but they didn’t seem to be helping, Clint’s teeth kept chattering when he wasn’t grinding them. Keeping him calm was getting harder with him putting his foot down on drugs.

“Go to sleep,” Clint said, his eyes on the television. His fingers brushed against Bucky’s. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky replied. Clint looked over. “You don’t want me to see you shook, and I am scared of something happening if I leave. Stalemate.” 

Clint sighed. “Strange will figure this out. Guy is wicked smart. Just slow at it.”

Bucky shrugged, tilting his head. “I’m sure it’ll be over with soon enough.” He grabbed onto Clint’s hand and tried to warm them up. “Stay under the blanket.”

“And miss out on holding your hand? Pass,” Clint said with fake cheerfulness. He pulled Bucky’s hand close and kissed his knuckles before he snakes their hands under the piles of blankets. “Ready to get sweaty palms? Because you are going to get so toasty.”

“Whatever it takes,” Bucky said. “You should sleep- it might make things a little better.” Clint shot Bucky a look, which he was pretty sure was a _you are kidding me, right?_ look. “If anything starts beeping I’ll wake you. You are exhausted, doll.”

Clint seemed to consider his options then nodded. “Yeah- alright. Whatever you want. Not going to leave?”

“Not even for a minute,” Bucky promised.

\---------

“Are you kidding me, Barton?” Steve asked, his arms crossed. Bucky wasn’t any more amused that anyone else in the hospital room at the moment. Relieved, of course, but far from amused.

“How in the hell was I supposed to know that if we washed it off it would stop the magic?” Clint shouted. “You guys were the ones you shoved me in here the moment you could! It’s not like anyone said ‘hey Barton! Let’s take a shower!’”

Which was fair. No one would have guessed that all they had to do was shove him in a shower and wash it off. Clint had insisted on going to a hot tub, said it would be warm enough and then wouldn’t let it go until Tony heard enough about it. Clint sank under the water and when he had come back up, the snowflake tattoo was dripping off. They called Strange to give him the update the moment they had figured out what had happened.

“In all fairness, only one who wants to shower with you is Bucky,” Natasha said, smirking.

“Oh, enough sass from you,” Clint said. “... it's _snow_ problem, right? Bucky grabbed a pillow and shoved it over Clint’s face, knocking him back firmly against the bed.


	10. The Christmas Party

Bucky was nervous, fixing his tie for what was possibly the third time in the last ten minutes. And when he wasn’t fixing his tie he was playing with the cuff links on his jacket. If it hadn’t taken him awhile to get his hair into its current style he likely would have played with that as well.

“It’s a Christmas Party, Bucky, calm down,” Steve chuckled. “Just a Stark event before the group party tonight.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Bucky muttered. “It’s too quick and-“

“You’ll be fine.”

Bucky didn’t care for how dismissive it sounded; he knew it was going to be fine, but that didn’t settle the feeling in his gut any more than it had the last time Steve had said it. He just wanted more time before becoming public again. Surely he was allowed that luxury after all the shit he had been through.

“Barton will be there,” Steve hinted.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret telling you,” Bucky grumbled.

So what? He might have had a small crush on Clint. The guy was a walking disaster half the time but God did he do it beautifully. He was complex, rich with character once you were lucky enough to see the sides of himself that he hid. Bucky felt himself drawn to the archer almost the instant he had arrived to the tower. Or, rather, the moment Clint walked in post mission, stripping the moment he walked through the front doors with a smirk on his face, cracking jokes at Tony’s expense.

It certainly didn’t help that he had that charming smile, the right level of swagger, and a tendency to walk around in bare minimum clothing until he downed his first pot of coffee. He was the first one to take Bucky to the range, first to spar with him when Steve wasn’t available. Clint made himself available for idle chit chat, and never seemed to get frustrated when Bucky would close himself off, or when he would accidentally wake Clint up. And while he was far from perfect, sometimes displaying habits that were far less than desirable, there was something about him that seemed to make things easier.

But Bucky didn’t take that kind of treatment personal. Clint was like that with everyone. He would sit in Tony’s lab, spin in a chair and listen, even though everyone knew Clint had no idea what Tony was talking about. He would spend a lot of time with Bruce when he went Hulk, the big guy somehow taking to Clint’s charm the quickest. And of course there was Natasha- the two were practically inseparable. Bucky swallowed back his feelings for Clint- it was never going to happen anyway.

Bucky and Steve arrived to the party just a few minutes early and Bucky found a quiet spot and stuck there. For what it was worth, the party wasn’t terrible. People were avoiding him at all costs it seemed, but he was okay with that- that meant he didn’t have to try hard. He held a glass in one hand, and scanned the room. _Guess Barton isn’t going to be here_ he thought before he heard a great deal of laughter that drew his attention.

Bucky wanted to be embarrassed for him, he really did, but the broad grin on Clint’s face instantly shifted his mood, he couldn’t do anything but chuckle. He was practically a walking Christmas sweater but in suit form. It was a bright red suit with white details, along with a tie that matched perfectly, and lit up. And people were soaking it up. Bucky couldn’t tell if Tony looked mad because Clint was stealing the spotlight, or because the guy clearly stayed within the rules while pushing the line obnoxiously.

“You said wear a suit, what do you think?” Clint asked cheerfully, turning a little so Tony, and pretty much everyone, could fully appreciate it. Bucky noticed the few bruises, the slightly sleepy look in his eyes, and some taped up fingers, but in general he seemed to be in a good mood. “I even managed to have it altered while on a mission. I’m just that good.”

“You look ridiculous,” Tony countered, though now he had a grin on his face as they two clapped each other on the back.

“The word you are looking for is festive,” Clint corrected. 

Now Bucky split his time between surveying the crowd that still seemed to avoid him and watching Clint work his game. He made it look so effortless, weaving through the crowd, laughing and having a good time. He sometimes would glance Bucky’s way, smile brightly and wave before going back to whoever it was he was talking to. But again, Bucky couldn’t take it as anything more than politeness- Clint had gone up several times to Natasha, put an arm around her, kiss her cheek, whisper in her ear. Bucky was beginning to see why the Avengers rosters had betting lines on if they were married or dating. 

It was nearly two hours in, and Bucky wanted out despite knowing there were two hours left to go. As he predicted, no one wanted to talk with him anyway, not that he could blame them. No one wanted to sit that close to an assassin. He was fairly certain if Natasha wasn’t good at faking a smile when needed, no one would be near her either for the same reasons. 

And then there was Clint- the guy who was able to shrug off that past life and melt into his setting. No one seemed to take him too seriously, stunts like wearing that suit certainly didn’t seem to help with his reputation; but Natasha mentioned once how that was how Clint played off people, letting them think he was friendly until he could prove otherwise. Watching the tall blond sing carols horrifically offkey with a group of adults, Bucky did wonder how much of his past was fabricated.

“Hey- wanna escape with me?” Clint asked, startling Bucky. _Okay, maybe he is sneakier than I give him credit for_ Bucky thought, wondering how long Clint had been this close to him. Bucky stared at him, watching the fake smile being replaced with something a little more authentic. “Y’know you can say no and I would-“

“Let’s go.”

Clint’s face lit up more and it was worth whatever trouble the archer was about to get them in. He turned and waved to Tony, tilting his head in silent communication with his intentions before he walked. Bucky noticed the way Clint was keeping an eye on Steve, sneaking the pair past him without drawing attention; Bucky also noticed how Natasha was distracting Steve as well, her eyes locking with Bucky’s with a brief moment and he could have sworn she smirked.

“What are we doing?” Bucky asked as Clint got them through the public area and into the private section of the bottom floor.

“Going out,” Clint answered vaguely, pulling at his tie to get it off of him. “Figured- what the hell? I’m not ready for bed, not yet at least.” He went to toss his tie down before Bucky saw him jerk his hand back and sling it over his shoulder.

“You alright then?” Bucky asked. “Not a hard mission?”

“Oh, yeah, no. Mission was a cluster but not terrible. Newbies- all the newbies. It wasn’t hard, but it was comical in a ‘yay no one died’ sort of way,” Clint answered, walking into the locker room before he started to strip. He got into his locker and tossed Bucky some clothing. “Make it work, Barnes.”

“Wait, we are-“

“It’s a surprise,” Clint said, pulling on a pair of obnoxiously bright purple sweats before he looked over. “Backing out?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bucky answered and he changed. “It’s just… we don’t _go_ outside of the Tower together.”

“Guess it’s time to change that then,” Clint answered. He pulled on a black hoodie with his own logo on it and grinned. “Look at that- we are almost matching.”

Bucky looked at the hoodie he had been provided and snorted. “You are something else with al the Avengers merch,” he chuckled. Bucky was wearing a baggy pair of sweats, thankfully in a dark grey because he would have refused an outrageous color, and his hoodie was Hawkeye themed. “Alright- lets get.”

Clint hopped up and pulled a beanie on before he grabbed keys and a wallet. He closed the locker, gave Bucky another one of those award winning smiles and nearly pranced to the door. Bucky followed him, hesitating only for a moment before he stepped outside in the cold.

The city was still bustling, just a few short days until Christmas. There were carolers every few blocks it seemed, and Clint had to pause at each one. They stopped to look at some Christmas display as well because Clint had heard it was worth a visit. Clint’s eyes lit up the more they made it through the town and Bucky was glad he had been invited along for the stroll. He couldn’t tell if Clint’s outdoor adventure actually had a purpose to it or not, but it beat the party they were at.

“Here we are!” Clint exclaimed excitedly.

Bucky looked at the sign. “Ice skating?”

“At the famed Rockerfella thing,” Clint bragged. “I’ve been meaning to do this for years but normally I’m either out of town or held up inside for one reason or another.” Bucky knew those reasons but he wasn’t going to comment on them. “Come on! It’ll be fun.”

“Do you even know how to ice skate?” Bucky asked.

“Do _you_?” Clint came back with cheerfully.

“Yeah, at least I used to,” Bucky answered.

“Good! At least one of us knows how to then,” Clint said as he showed his ID to someone and walked in. “I mean, I have before but it’s been a long while.”

They both rented out the skates before they made their way on the ice. Clint wasn’t a disaster, but he did frail around a bit, laughing at himself. Bucky wrinkled his nose as he tried to get used to the feeling of being on the skates. It took awhile, probably close to an hour, but the two had managed to make it a little ways off the wall and were moving at a snail’s pace.

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me,” Clint said, his hands in his hoodie.

“I thought this was a major attraction?” Bucky asked.

Clint’s face scrunched for a moment before he looked guilty. “I might have… called in a favor and rented it out for two hours,” he admitted, looking just a hair embarrassed.

“Why?”

Clint let out a breath and watched the puff of air as it escaped before he looked over. “Because this was literally the only thing I could think to do to get us both away from everyone for a minute. We kinda… need to talk.” Bucky frowned and Clint instantly went to back tracking. “No! No. Oh God, I am ruining- nothing bad,” Clint insisted.

“You aren’t making-”

“I like you,” Clint said quickly and Bucky wasn’t sure he had heard it right. “I-uh- I like you but I didn’t know how you felt, and you were from-” Clint rambled. Bucky watched him in awe as Clint tried to think of his words.

“Clint?”

“Yeah?” Clint asked, barely glancing Bucky’s way.

“Is this a date?”

“If… you want it to be a date,” Clint answered. “It doesn’t have to be a date. I’d kinda like it to be a date?” 

Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever heard Clint sound so nervous. This was a guy who flung himself off buildings, fought robots and aliens- the guy was fearless. Clint was chewing on his lip now, trying to look hopeful while failing miserably. It was a look Bucky hadn’t seen yet and he wanted to etch it in his memory. Clint glanced at Bucky then wrinkled his nose.

“You can say no and we can go,” Clint said softly. “No harm, no foul. And pretend this never happened.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like this date,” Bucky admitted. Clint looked surprised at the moment before he relaxed a little. “I think maybe we should try to continue this date at a coffee shop or something to warm up.”

“And skip the after party?” Clint asked with a boyish grin. “Disappoint Captain America? Yeah, I am definitely in. Coffee shop next,” Clint agreed.


	11. Deck the Halls

Bucky watched helplessly from the couch as the battle began. He thought maybe this year would be different, but no- it was almost a perfect reenactment of the last two years. Natasha was sparring off with Tony and honestly? Bucky wished he had stayed down in his room.

“You are not decorating every tree red and gold like a goddamn narcissist,” Natasha snapped. “Two. You already have two trees looking like Ironman throw up. No more.” Bucky wasn’t exactly sure why Natasha even cared, but this was the third year in a row that she seemed to care.

“Excuse me, but who owns this place?” Tony asked.

“I’ll own you if you even attempt this bullshit again,” Natasha threatened.

“Oh? And how do you want to decorate it? Spiders?” Tony asked mockingly.

“Can we stop while we are ahead?” Steve asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Tony, you do have two trees, and a third on our floor.”

“Hey! You are supposed to be on my side,” Tony said, clearly on edge. “Why do I date you if you don’t have my back on this?”

“Barton sleeping still?” Bruce asked, handing Bucky some tea.

Bucky looked down at the reason he was currently stuck listening to the drama. Clint had come home from his mission and had undressed as he walked through the common space before he collapsed on the couch. A few years ago it would have unnerved Bucky, but now everyone was just used to Clint stripping it seemed. He declared that he needed a nap before decorating, but his “nap” was now on hour six. 

“Should we wake him up?” Bruce asked.

Bucky ran a hand down Clint’s back, watched the way Clint seemed to pull away from the touch, his face turning for a moment into Bucky’s lap before he turned it back to the side, his eyebrows knitted.

“Might stop all the arguing,” Bucky answered. “And it has been six hours…”

Bucky was conflicted. He knew Clint just wanted to sleep, probably needed it. He was sporting purple and pink bandages on his ankle and all up his left arm, a heavily decorated sling laying on the floor at his feet. The only thing Bucky caught in the mumbled disaster was “inflamed” and “not broke” before Clint fell asleep. However, the only reason the team was currently discussing decorations for a Christmas tree was because when Clint had walked into the space six hours ago he looked around in disappointment while whimpering something about living with scrooges.

“Maybe another hour?” Bucky sighed. “Think we can survive that long?”

“Well… Natasha is in shorts and a tank top, no visible weapons so… we stand a chance,” Bruce agreed before he sat down.

“Can’t we just use all the old decorations that-” Steve tried to say.

“No. No, you pain me,” Tony said dramatically. “Why can’t we use-”

Bucky sighed and tried to tune the noise out and focus on the television. It was showcasing a live action of The Grinch, was slightly creepier than necessary if he were being honest. Bruce was reading, and Bucky had no idea how he could just tune everything out so well to enjoy that luxury at this moment.

“Maybe we should just-”

“Tree.”

Bucky looked down and saw Clint’s eyes open, looking at the tree. The trio by the tree stopped and looked over as well as Clint slowly sat up. Bucky bent down and grabbed the sling, tossing it at him then tried not to laugh when Clint completely missed it, letting it whip him in the face. Clint let out the most pathetic whine Bucky had ever heard as he shimmied to get the old sling off of his body.

“Can I help decorate it?” Clint asked, leaning forward to grab his hearing aids. He pulled a face before he stood up on shaky legs.

“Pants,” Tony, Steve, and Bruce all said at the same time. Clint groaned and looked around before Natasha tossed him a pair of sweats she had collected. Clint murmured something before he pulled them on, stumbling a bit as he went.

“Alright, who drugged the bird?” Tony asked.

“His doctor said he needed to rest,” Steve said defensively.

Clint watched them before he very carefully made his way over and picked up an ornament and hung it on the tree. Natasha snorted and looked at Tony, giving him a knowing headshake. This was going to be the end of Bucky’s misery- the argument was going to be over.

“Wait, so because _Barton_ wants those decorations-” Tony began to say.

“... did I grab the wrong one?” His voice was so small and soft and Bucky wanted to scoop him up and force him to cuddle in close and watch. “I can take it off…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tony said quickly. “Put up whatever you want. No more drugging Legolas. That’s an unfair advantage for Natasha to get what she wants. I can’t tell him no. But I am putting the star on top. Got it? You can’t be up high.”

“You’re already to star on top,” Clint muttered and Bucky tried hard not to laugh when Tony stumbled and stared. “Hey JARVIS, can’t we listen to Christmas music or something?”

“ _Of course, Agent Barton,_ ” the AI system said before Christmas music started playing.

“Saved by the Clint,” Bruce mused, looking at Bucky.

“How does he do that to Tony?” Bucky asked. “He even fights Steve tooth and nail. And all it takes it a sleepy, drugged up Clint looking and sounding pathetic as hell, and Tony caves in point two seconds.”

“You tell us, you are the one dating him,” Bruce said with smile.

Bucky really had no idea how Clint managed to pull it off. He watched from the couch as the four started decorating the tree without arguing anymore. Natasha had moved on to hang their stockings, putting out other trinkets the team had collected over the years. When the tree was fairly well decorated below, Clint shuffled his way back to Bucky and sank down, leaning heavily against him.

“You psychic, doll?” Bucky asked. “We had just talked about waking you up to end a fight.” Clint didn’t respond with anything other than a hum, pulling a blanket over them and snuggled in closer.

“Hey babe.”

Bucky looked up, watching as Clint walked into the common space. He was wearing thick, fuzzy socks with caricatures of snowmen on them, another pair on his shoulder. He held out a mug to Bucky and gave him a warm smile.

“You look more awake,” Bucky observed.

“Hm?” Clint asked, sitting down and folding his legs. He tossed Bucky the extra socks, decorated with the most horrific display of reindeer and Santa he had ever seen.

“You don’t remember decorating the tree?” Bucky asked carefully, setting his mug down and taking his own socks on to put on the new pair.

Clint looked confused and looked over at the tree. “Huh. Nope.” He took a sip from his mug and settled back, tucking it in the hole between his legs and rubbing at his left arm. “I remember crashing on the couch, and I remember you carrying me to our flat. Then I woke up, showered, and I made cocoa.”

“You made hot chocolate?” Bucky asked, sticking his nose close to the mug.

“You like it, tiny marshmallows and all,” Clint shrugged. “Look, snowing.” Bucky blinked a few times before he looked outside. “Maybe we’ll get that white Christmas after all. Wouldn’t that be something?” He got that far off dreamy look for a moment before he looked at the television. “Grinch?”

“The newer one- watched the live action one earlier. Not a fan,” Bucky replied.

“Mhhh- we should watch Christmas Vacation next,” Clint said before he picked his mug up and took a long sip, his eyes fluttering closed like he was in heaven.

“Hey.” Clint looked over, that sleepy look still there making him look so much softer than normal. “You made it back before Christmas. It’s a record.” Clint smiled a little at that and nodded, looking back at the television.

“We should finish the decorating,” Clint muttered. “Got the garland and everything up here already.”

“You are supposed to stay off your ankle,” Bucky pointed out. “And your wrist is inflamed. And- what else is there?”

Clint pouted for a moment. “What if I perched on your shoulders?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. _Apparently we aren’t going to talk about the injury list. ___

__“I am not a perch, Barton,” Bucky snorted._ _

__“But you are my favorite perch,” Clint argued. “Favorite everything.”_ _

__“Funny, because you told Tony earlier how he was already the star on top of the tree,” Bucky said._ _

__He watched as the color drained from Clint’s face. “I did not,” he whispered._ _

__“Oh, you did, and I am sure Tony will play the clip of it later when everyone is back to being awake,” Bucky replied, getting up. “You fall and I am strapping you to a bed. Come on, let’s do the decorating together so you don’t try it on your own.”_ _

__Clint nodded and got up, climbing up Bucky’s back before he balanced on his shoulders, looping his legs over. “Don’t drop me. Worst boyfriend ever if you do.”_ _

__“Uh huh.”_ _

__Bucky worked with Clint to finish the decorating. They hung the lights in the window, the tinsel and garlands throughout the space, dangling some ornaments from the ceiling. It was everything the team had done last Christmas. It had taken an hour before when they were done Bucky looked around and it finally felt like Christmas to him._ _

__“Babe… you forgot something important,” Clint said cheerfully, leaning forward._ _

__“Oh?” Bucky asked before he tilted his head back._ _

__Dangling a bit of mistletoe over him, Clint planted a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “Can’t forget the best part.”_ _

__“No, guess we can’t,” Bucky agreed. “Where we hiding it this time?” He waited until Clint pointed to above the doorway of the kitchen before he walked over. “Got it, killer?”_ _

__“Got it,” Clint said. He leaned to the side and started to pull his legs off, forcing Bucky to catch him. Bucky wanted to be mad at the stunt, but the giggle that bubbled through Clint stopped him in his tracks. “Look at that- you’ll never let me fall.”_ _

__“Never,” Bucky agreed. “Mistletoe.”_ _

__“Kiss me?” Clint asked._ _

__“Tradition,” Bucky replied before he leaned down to kiss him._ _


	12. Clint's Grown Up Christmas List

“Come on, there has to be _something_ you want for Christmas.”

Bucky had been trying for the last three days to get it out of his boyfriend and Clint was not caving. Tonight was no different. They were laying down on the couch in Clint’s floor, a collection of animated Christmas movies on repeat for the day. Clint had nestled himself between Bucky’s legs, his arms thrown back so his hands could play with Bucky’s hair. And while it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, Bucky would endure it for the night.

“I’m serious, I don’t want anything,” Clint said, his fingers dipping lower to press circles into Bucky’s shoulder. “I mean, what don’t I have?”

“A couch that isn’t covered in Lucky hair?”

“Okay, for starters, those are glitter strands and they make life better,” Clint argued lightly. “And I see Alpine white hair everywhere too so leave my mutt alone.”

“Alright… but there has to be something and you are just being stubborn,” Bucky insisted. “A new bow?”

Clint wrinkled his nose. “There’s nothing wrong with my bow.”

“New quiver?”

“I’ve got five,” Clint pointed out.

Bucky sighed and rolled his head back. “You are impossible.” Clint dug his fingers into the back of Bucky’s neck, demanding for his hair to come back. “You are a demanding little shit, you know that?”

Clint sat up and and moved, putting his back against the other end of the couch. “There’s nothing I want that you can buy, babe,” Clint answered. His dug his toes under Bucky’s butt, warming them up as he grabbed a blanket from the ground. “I’ve got everything I want right here, right now in this apartment.”

Bucky leaned against the back of the couch and kicked his feet on top of Clint’s legs and Clint wrinkled his nose before he reached down to rub them. It wasn’t too often that Clint actually said something sweet outside of “I love you,” so Bucky wanted to bask in the moment for a minute. Clint liked to show how he felt, he hated talking about it because he never could find the words he wanted.

“So… what did you want that I can’t buy?” Bucky asked. “The perfect Christmas Day. Go.”

“Babe,” Clint groaned.

“Come on, you can do it,” Bucky encouraged him playfully, dipping in foot down and using it to push up his shirt. Clint narrowed his eyes at the action and attempted to pull his shirt down, but Bucky kept his foot firmly in place. Clint snorted and nudged it a few times before he gave up.

“You aren’t going to laugh?” Clint asked.

Bucky frowned before he shook his head. “Not going to laugh,” he agreed.

“Or tell anyone. And I mean it,” Clint stressed.

“You having a Barton moment?” Bucky asked. Clint pinched the space between Bucky’s big toe and the next. “Okay! Okay! I’ll stop,” Bucky promised. “But come on. Perfect Christmas fantasy. Go.”

Clint seemed to think about it before he grabbed another blanket. “Alright, well, first- I’d like a Christmas where I don’t have to be in the medical ward, or concussed, or out of the country,” he said slowly, gauging Bucky’s reaction. 

Bucky must have passed whatever test because Clint continued and Bucky was in stunned silence. It was little things- being home, listening to carolers, and sipping coffee before switching over to hot cocoa. He wanted something quiet, understated compared to the party Tony would be throwing for the team. No villains, no fighting, no practicing or shooting. If he could stay in his pajamas all day, cuddled up next to Bucky with Lucky on the other side, Clint would be happy.

Bucky had to think back to the last two Christmases, the only two he was around for. Clint had been overseas and in Southern Africa for the first one, chasing after MODOK before he could ruin the holiday for everyone. He had gotten home Christmas night, the first night they met, and had that fake smile plastered on his face during the Christmas party. Then last year Clint had been so drugged off his ass and in so much pain he didn’t even remember or realize what day it was. Bucky wondered just how many Christmases Clint had like those two that the guy just wanted some peace.

“So… that’s it? That’s all you want?” 

Clint bit his lip as he thought. “It’s… a good start.”

“So what else is there?” Bucky asked.

“No.”

“Yes. Come on.”

“If I say it you are going to run for the hills,” Clint warned.

Bucky sat up then was on his knees, pinning Clint back against the couch and Clint held his breath for a moment before he relaxed. “I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky promised. “So… what is it?” Bucky flipped and laid back against Clint. “See, you can’t even see my reaction.”

“I’ll still feel it,” Clint grumbled as he started to braid Bucky’s hair. It took a few minutes of quiet before Clint sighed. “I want… to adopt. Two kids or something, I dunno. And watch them have the christmases I never had. Watch them open the presents, wake me up early. Bake cookies and leave things out for Santa. All of it.”

Bucky wasn’t overly fond of the idea. Between Clint and himself there were nightmares and scars that could never be erased. Bucky wasn’t sure who was the least qualified between the two of them to raise children- the man with a metal arm and a death glare, or the guy who sometimes went outside wearing two different shoes and was commonly sporting a variety of bruises and bandages.

“Told ya- run for the hills,” Clint muttered.

Bucky tipped his head back to look at Clint’s blank face, could see the walls building. Bucky sighed and turned around. “Let’s start small and maybe someday we can have it all. All of it,” Bucky answered. “Not… this year. Maybe not next. But- someday.”

“Someday,” Clint echoed.

Bucky remembered that night like it was yesterday. Two years changed a lot in their lives. Clint was sleeping on the couch, a red headed girl sleeping peacefully wrapped up in his arms. Their flat was a mess, toys everywhere, art on the walls that shouldn’t be there. The kitchen was stacked with dirty dishes and bottles, and they were wading waist deep in diapers at all times it seemed. Bucky was walking, swaying as he went to calm the infant in his arms, though he was pretty sure the little tyke was already fast asleep again.

If you would have told Bucky two years ago that he’d have kids, he would have laughed. If you would have told him three years ago he would find the love of his life standing alone at a Christmas party, looking just as miserable as Bucky felt, he would have scoffed, especially if you told him it would be Clint Barton. Good things had never just came to Bucky that easily.

Clint had found out about Eve first and filed every piece of paper under the sun to become a foster parent. Bucky didn’t flinch, he just went with it. They were warned not to get attached, that kids could come and go at any moment. But from the moment Bucky saw Clint pick that little girl up he knew his heart wouldn’t be able to take it if she ever left. Two months later they found out about Elliot and, well- what was one more? Chaos, but he was just a baby. And as soon as Bucky held him, he knew it was right. Watching Clint be a parent _felt_ right. 

“Want to switch?” Clint asked in a sleepy daze. “I can go put her in her bed now. I think her fever broke.”

“He’s asleep- let’s put them both down,” Bucky whispered. 

Clint nodded and carefully made his way to his feet, cradling Eve like she was the most precious thing in his life. He gave Bucky a sleepy smile before he padded down the hall to her room. Bucky followed suit, laying Elliot down in his crib. He rested his hand on the little boy’s stomach, felt it rise and fall. Clint came up behind Bucky and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his neck.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky,” Clint whispered.

Two years ago, Bucky never knew he could have this, never knew he wanted this. Two years ago he didn’t know he could have the whole world at his fingertips and it was all because he believed in Clint’s crazy ideas. Now he knew exactly what he wanted and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Let’s adopt them,” Bucky said softly. “Let’s… lets make it official.”

He could feel Clint’s lips pull up into a smile against his neck. “Best Christmas ever,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! I was going to wait until Christmas day to post but I have a severe lack of self-control. I hope everyone has a happy, safe, and warm holiday filled with all the food and love you could ever need in life.


End file.
